The Gay Lord Quex - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Naturally.
MISS HUDDLE.
So should I, though I'm quite new here.
MISS MOON.
It never gives _me_ any pleasure to hear of people having their limbs crushed.
MISS HUDDLE.
Or being murdered by tramps.
MISS MOON.
Won't your lords.h.i.+p take a chair? [_To_ FRAYNE, _who has wandered down to the window._] And you, sir?
[_The young gentleman, his manicuring being finished, has risen, paid_ MISS LIMBIRD _and departed, followed by_ MISS CLARIDGE _carrying her bowl and towel. The door-gong sounds._
QUEX.
Is that she?
MISS MOON.
No; that young gentleman leaving.
[MISS MOON, _carrying her bowl and towel, and_ MISS HUDDLE, _after exchanging a few words with_ MISS LIMBIRD, _withdraw._
FRAYNE.
[_To_ QUEX, _biliously._] How revoltingly hideous these gals look this morning!
QUEX.
Same as yesterday. You're seedy.
FRAYNE.
[_Closing his eyes._] Oh, shockingly seedy. [_Sitting._] I'm in for a go of malaria, I fear.
QUEX.
Shame of me to have routed you out of bed and bothered you with my affairs. [_Sitting._] But you can quite understand, Chick, how confoundedly anxious I am as to the att.i.tude Miss Fullgarney will adopt towards me to-day.
FRAYNE.
Quite, quite. Harry--
QUEX.
Yes?
FRAYNE.
_What_ champagne was it we drank last night at Richmond?
QUEX.
[_With some bitterness._] Ha! Felix Poubelle, Carte d'Or.
FRAYNE.
[_Shaking his head._] _I_ can't take champagne.
QUEX.
_Can't_ you!
FRAYNE.
I mean I oughtn't to.
QUEX.
Oh. [_Referring to his watch again._] I've given you a pretty minute account of last night's tragedy, Chick. "I'll do what I can for you"--those were the Fullgarney's words. Good lord, they came at me like a bolt from the blue! Does she intend to act up to them, eh?--that's the question. Surely she'll act up to them, Chick?
FRAYNE.
Have you met the ladies this morning?
QUEX.
Yes--except Muriel, who didn't show at breakfast.
FRAYNE.
How did you find 'em?
QUEX.
Amiability itself; _they_ know nothing. [_Rising and looking down upon_ FRAYNE.] You see, Chick, all that Miss Fullgarney has to do--if she hasn't already done it--is to tell a trifling taradiddle to Muriel concerning the events of last night. Well, in effect, she has promised to do that, hasn't she? [_Impatiently._] Eh?
FRAYNE.
[_Gloomily._] Frankly, Harry, I shouldn't be in the least surprised if the jade sold you.
QUEX.
